Those Who Are Unwell
by The Neliel Tu
Summary: Stark x Nel x Nnoitra. One woman inspires two men to act strangely--and not in the way one would think.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: o.o well, this story is ridiculous. :D Stark x Nel x Nnoi. I'm not sure what I'm trying to prove with this one..._

**Debt**

_"You're the only one I ever tried for, Neliel." _

Her eyes shot open and her body was sent hurtling to fully upright in bed. She gasped for breath, felt for empty space beside her, _prayed_ for it.

She felt a body, wondered why it was there, wondered why it was not moving. Her hand roamed, discovered the identity.

"Nnoitra…" she muttered. Why was he—she couldn't remember…she did not want to. She loved the lanky man, but there was another—another—and she felt terrible, and she wanted to be sick.

Neliel fled from the room—_her_ own room—nausea coursing through her body. She did not know where to turn, where to flee to. She found a bathroom; she emptied her stomach. She felt no better than before.

She splashed cold water over her face, confused and exhilarated all at once.

Nnoitra—in _her_ room—that was incredibly absurd. She leaned on the wall outside of the bathroom, catching her breath.

"What's got you so winded, Neliel?"

The voice was all too familiar. The voice was not welcome. She covered her mouth, her eyes searching him.

"It's nothing, Stark."

"So you say." He smirked. "It doesn't sound like nothing. Wake up with Nnoitra in your bed again? That would send me running to be sick, too."

"How can you speak of the matter as if it holds no importance to you?" Neliel demanded, obviously hurt by his words.

"Simple. It holds no importance to me."

"I know that's not true."

"Yeah, you're right. Maybe I'm just pretending. What does it matter, anyway? It's not like anything matters in this world. So you fucked him again. Big deal."

"If you can pretend you do not care, then why can't you pretend to be sensitive?" she sniffed. "This is—this is not nothing."

"So you lied." Stark looked proud, almost.

"Stop trying so hard." Neliel folded her arms across her chest. "You never tried with anyone else."

"Never felt the need." Stark returned loftily. "Strangely, you're the only one worth the effort."

"Oh. Am I that much of an enigma?" she scoffed. "Don't kid yourself with those illusions, Stark. It's not good for your health."

"Starting to feel better, are you? Maybe you should listen to your own advice, Neliel. Your illusions are twice as numerous as mine."

Neliel huffed and walked away.

"Off to face that demon of yours, right? Good luck." Stark wished, with a soft wave of his hand. Neliel chewed furiously on her lip as she stormed through the halls and to her own room, where Nnoitora lay in slumber.

She sat on the edge of the bed, her back to him. She felt his arm snake out toward her, his hand gripping for her hip.

"Neliel…" he groaned, opening his eye. "What the hell'm I doing here?"

"I've been asking myself the same. What did we drink last night, Nnoitora? Do you remember?"

"Something…something from the living world. Vodka, I think they called it."

"Let's not make that mistake again, shall we? Get out of my bed, I did not give you permission to waste the day within it." She dismissed him coolly, ushering him from her room. Nnoitora grumbled and swore under his breath, but Neliel was relieved once he had gone.

Another presence quickly trumped that relief, along with a soft knock upon her door.

"Leave." She commanded, but he entered anyway.

"You seemed relieved." Stark smirked.

Neliel lay back on her bed, completely exhausted. "I was." She admitted. "It was vodka that we drank. Alcohol that influenced my decisions to sway in the wrong direction." She scoffed. "I will not make the mistake again."

"It's better that way. You know the octava will hate you for it."

"He already hates me, so where is the difference?"

"Point taken." Stark tapped his chin, sitting on her bed, beside her. "You know, we could have worked."

"How is that?" she looked at him curiously.

"We're both bitter, aren't we?"

"Speak for yourself."

"See? It shines through there. It doesn't even matter."

"Your opinions are unfounded. Stop making assumptions."

"You know, I could use a nap." Stark lay beside Neliel, closing his eyes and yawning.

"Don't you dare," She sat up, glowering at him.

He made no answer, feigning sleep. Though, as soon as she lay back down, his arm snaked around her waist. She mumbled a weak protest, but fell asleep herself, finding that it was not so bad to be held.

She woke to a suffocating grasp and the feeling of dead weight at her back.

She needed to get out, she needed to get up, but what was worse was the undeniable feeling of not ever wanting to move again.

"Let go of me now, Stark." She demanded coolly.

"Five more minutes, Lilinette." He grumbled, and Neliel shoved him off of her quickly.

"Make that mistake again, and I will have you dead."

"I dare you to try." Stark smirked.

Neliel sat atop his chest, crossing her legs comfortably.

"How shall I kill you, Stark? Shall I slit your throat and watch the blood stain your bone fragments? Shall I run you through with my blade? Do you wish for a painful death, or a quick one? I could fire off a cero at point blank range."

"You must see me as a warrior."

"I see you as a threat." She told him bluntly. "You are a threat to my sanity."

"And here I was thinking that you were a complete fool." He scoffed up at her, taking on an indifferent expression.

"Leave my room." She demanded.

"I'll see you soon, Nel-chan." He returned breezily as he left her room, sending her toppling over onto her bed.

--

Her first outing into the desert after becoming an espada was unsuccessful. She sat atop a sand dune, her head cradled upon her knees, and her arms curled around her legs. Her shoulders slumped forward, and she was so engrossed in her problems that she did not feel Stark's presence.

"Why so sad, Miss Tricero?" his voice was low, bitter.

Her head lifted, and she turned her face toward him. The primero, someone she had not had much contact with.

"I'm not sad. I am merely thinking." She returned softly.

"Thinking about sad things, no doubt."

"No."

"You must be thinking about how dead you are."

She said nothing, only looking at him mutely.

"You must know it. You're _here_ after all. You're just as dead as anyone else."

"That makes you dead, as well."

"So there is a brain under all of that." He said, gesturing to her skull mask and hair. She stood, glaring at him.

"You have no business with me." She told him, and began to run toward Las Noches. Stark was more than capable of keeping up.

"Running does not solve your problems."

"Maybe not, for they seem to follow me."

"No matter how fast you run, Neliel, you're still dead."

"I can breathe. I can feel my heart beat. I eat, I sleep and I behave like any other creature. How can I be dead?" she asked, skidding to a halt in the sand.

"There is no purpose in your existence."

"You do not know that." She lifted her chin, her eyes narrow and cold.

"Oh? Then what purpose could you possibly have? You seem to lead a meaningless existence."

"If I told everyone what my purpose in life was, or anyone, for that matter, the need to help me would arise within them. What worth does my purpose have if I am not the only one who aided in achieving it? I cannot have the help of another. If I told you, you might wish to help me, and I do not wish that."

"Sounds like shoddy logic to me."

"Oh. And what insight have you got into the mind of a woman?" Neliel teased boldly.

"None. I'd rather not have any."

"The same goes for me."

"What could you possibly mean by that?"

"Perhaps that I am not like a woman." Neliel returned mildly, turning her head. "Why do you ask such questions of me?"

"Simple. I am curious about the new addition." He scoffed. "You should feel privileged. Normally, I don't bother."

"Privileged? I feel smothered. I feel invaded." She sniffed. "I feel as though you have no right to see what is inside of my head."

"Perhaps you are right, and yet, you have revealed a great deal of yourself to me."

"If I leave now, will you follow me?"

"Nah." He shrugged, not expecting her to truly leave.

The sight that greeted his eyes when finally he looked up was empty space, and Neliel had gone.

"Huh." He scratched the back of his head. He'd surely have time to figure her out, he thought.

She breathed a sigh of relief only when her heavy door was safely shut and locked behind her. She could sleep, she could think; she could breathe.

And she could think about the primera espada. Certainly he was an interesting one, but should she really trouble herself? Neliel sighed deeply, shaking her head. Who did he think he was, anyway? Yes, he was the primera—but did that really give him the right? She was confused, and slightly shaken.

Then, there was a knock upon her door. "Yo." The greeting followed soon after.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Early lemon! O.o _

_Uhh. Smack me if I'm making them out of character. It's not easy.  
_

**Decision **

_2_

"I don't like her."

Lilinette's decision-making skills were quick. She knew herself and her tastes very well. Stark knew that she knew herself better than most.

"Oh yeah? Why?" He scratched the back of his head absently.

"She's weak, dummy." She rolled her eyes. "What do you see in her, anyway?"

"Obviously it's not the same thing you see. What difference does it make? Are you trying to change my mind?" Stark tilted his head.

"Nah." Lilinette stretched, her arms making lazy arcs above her head. "I just thought you should know." She tilted her head, the shading of her mask seeming strangely jaunty.

"Thanks." Stark let the word leave his mouth slowly.

--

Her eyes burned into the wall, cold and white. Everything was so clinical here. Stark pushed his hair out of his face, sighing.

"You have to have a reason for seeking me out," He said after a long pause.

"I—I need to get stronger." She bowed her head, shaking it. She was embarrassed. Stark had seen this before.

"I can't help you. What makes you think that I could?" He demanded. His voice was cold—what she needed. She frowned.

"I guess it makes no difference anyway." She rose. "I'll be gone before winter." She turned to leave.

"How do you figure?"

Neliel turned, and the smile spreading across her face was genuine. "There are some things that I just know."

--

The next night he spent in her quarters. He imagined Lilinette pacing his room with childlike ferocity and impatience. He'd left a note—a luxury she was rarely granted. A quick scope of the grounds told him she was in the presence of another fraccion.

"Neliel." He stared at the half-naked woman. She kneeled upon her bed, applying a mysterious salve to several wounds upon her back. She didn't look up.

"Yes?"

"Who did you fight today?"

She was quick to lie in her bed and pull the covers up to her chin. "I can't discuss this now. I need my sleep."

"All I want is a name."

"Don't concern yourself with it. Either join me, or leave." She glared across the room at him.

"I'll do nothing until you answer me."

She sat up sharply, eyes narrow. "I fought no one today. That is the truth." She scowled. "You need know nothing more."

Stark was slow to join her in bed, pondering her words. If she hadn't fought—had she been attacked? No…those marks on her back were from nails. It was apparent to him what the cause was, suddenly.

"I don't want to know." He finally said. She rested her face in his chest, below the fragments.

"I'm glad you understand." She mumbled, the hint of sarcasm apparent in her tone. Stark caught a flicker in her eyes, and distinguished it as pain.

"Don't need to know…" He muttered sleepily. She smiled and drew him closer.

--

She pushed back on his blade. It was too easy to shove him into the sand.

"Dammit." He swore to himself. She frowned from above him.

"You're not trying hard enough," She said.

"Fuck you, Neliel."

"Nnoitra…" She turned her head away, eyes seeking the distant desert. The next sound she heard was their blades clashing. "Foolish man." She muttered. "Attacking a woman when her back is turned. It's the attack of a coward." She thrust the blunt end of her blade into his stomach.

He rolled over on the sand, coughing up blood.

"Bitch…"

"I refuse to draw my blade against an opponent such as you." She lifted her chin, her eyes cast even farther down at him.

"Ya weren't lookin' down at me like this last night." Nnoitra mumbled. Neliel delivered a swift kick to the Octava's face.

"Be silent about matters such as those. I would hate for you to blemish your reputation." She was gone before he could pull himself into a sitting position.

--

"Pesche? Dondo Chakka?" Neliel called out tentatively. Where were they? Two hours had passed since lunch, and they had been missing long before then.

True concern filled her body. She felt sick, apprehensive. Knowing this was not like Pesche and Dondo Chakka only made things worse for the Tricero.

"P-Pesche? Dondo…Chakka?" She twisted the fabric at her belly nervously. Sweat beaded on her face. They weren't in her quarters or theirs—and she had checked all of the kitchens and dining areas at least three times.

Sh—who was behind this? No—they must have gone off without telling her. She would have to remind them.

After all, those two could be so flighty.

--

Stark sat alone at a table in a dining area. Nnoitra stumbled in, his eye surrounded in purple, inflamed flesh.

"Another failed conquest?" Stark made a lame attempt at conversation. Of course, Nnoitra bit.

"Fuck no." He smirked, adjusting his eye patch. "Y'know Neliel…" He made a lewd gesture and chuckled.

"Oh." Stark shrugged. "She doesn't seem that great to me." He shook his head and wrinkled his nose.

"Pffft." Nnoitra stuck out his tongue slightly. "She's fucking great if you can get past all of her morality and shit. Best part is she's a masochist, so if ya get a little rough, that only gets her more excited."

"I really don't know why you're telling me this." Stark sighed.

"Fuck, you're probably jealous." Nnoitra laughed. "Hell, I would be too. I mean, if I weren't nailing her."

"I don't understand what she sees in you." Stark shook his head. "But I guess I don't understand what she sees in me, either." With that, he stood and left. Nnoitra sat for a long moment, jaw agape. Was Stark really implying that he had nailed Neliel, too? What the fuck?

--

"Stark!" Neliel's eyes grew wide. "I wasn't expecting you!" She blinked, trying to regain her composure.

"Yeah, I wasn't expecting to come to you." He shrugged.

"Hmm. What'd you do, tell Nnoitra about us?" She joked.

"Actually…"

--

"Fuck you Neliel! Fuck you!"

"Screaming obscenities will get you nowhere." She sighed.

"I'll fucking kill you!" Nnoitra cried.

She parried his attacks and punched him in the face.

"What is this really about, Nnoitra?" Neliel demanded.

"You whore! You fucking whore!" He cried. She could nearly smell fresh saline building in unused tear ducts. Despair…it would always be Nnoitra's aspect of death. Neliel kept it a secret that she knew.

"I didn't mean for you to find out. I never meant for this to happen." Her tone was apologetic, yet clinical. Nnoitra choked on a sob and rushed forward. "I really didn't, Nnoitra." She mumbled as she shoved him away.

"You're a whore! That's all you are!" He glared at her.

Neliel shut her eyes and bowed her head. "Yes," She said. Then, she turned and walked away, leaving Nnoitra to wallow in despair. She stopped once to look back. He was slumped over, face buried in his arms.

"I'm sorry, Nnoitra." She whispered.

--

"…"

"You should have left it alone. Why would you need to prove anything to him? You're the fool."

Stark wondered how she could stay so calm when she knew how everything was going to end. She saw the future from the actions of now. She connected all of the tangled loose ends and followed them. And still, she could never change her ways to affect the outcome.

"His reaction will be terrible—Stark, you're the last one who would spread this around!"

"I guess I was a little too proud." He shrugged nonchalantly. In the next instant, slender, gloved fingers curled around his shoulders and he was being shaken. He flailed helplessly against her wrath.

"Idiot!" She cried. "Fool! Speaking to Nnoitra of my sex life! You know this will just kill him. And—in the long run—me." She sniffed. "Of course, none of this affects you. Don't worry. Your position as Primera is guaranteed for life."

"I'm not worried about that." He scoffed and withdrew from her.

"Oh." She instantly dropped all character.

"I should go."

"Please, stay." Neliel gripped his collar, eyes pleading with his.

--

"Neliel, you fucking whore." Nnoitra slapped her across the face.

"Don't leave a mark!" She begged.

"Fuck you, whore." He wrapped his fingers around her throat. She dug her nails into his hand, causing his grip to loosen.

"Nnoitra, I can't—I can't do this." She sat up as she pushed him away.

"I don't give a shit." He pulled her by the hair, forcing his mouth against hers. A jolt of—pleasure, Neliel guessed it to be—raced through her body at the unusual contact. Her hands automatically buried themselves in his hair, keeping his face close. She whimpered when he pulled away, eyes wide, pleading.

Nnoitra grinned, licking his teeth lasciviously. "Still can't do this?" He demanded.

Neliel forced him down onto the bed. She pulled his arms up over his head, her eyes gleaming. She moved over his body, devoid of clothing, preparing herself. She reached down, finding his manhood easily.

"Shit—Ne—"

"Quiet." She silenced him easily. Within the next few seconds, she had guided him into her. He gasped; then grinned. It was such a great feeling, to be within Neliel's warm sheath.

She moved over him, her hips thrusting forward and back quickly. He stopped her hips, thrusting himself into her at a faster pace.

The look of bliss on her face was far from innocent, and Nnoitra reveled in this side of Neliel. The more pain he caused her, the louder her moans and gasps became. The more pain he caused, the more pleasure they both received.

--

She was screaming. She was screaming as loud as her lungs would allow. Tears streamed down her face. She had never expected to react this way. She had never been _this_ hysterical before!

"He's dead! Oh, oh, oh, he's dead!" She panted, trying desperately to ebb the flow of tears. She was alone and her eyes were burning, her heart nearly finished beating. How could she go on?

"Nn—Nnoitra!" she pulled at her hair, beat at her sides. She couldn't even understand why she was so distraught. That scary man hadn't meant a thing to her!

There was another persona—and she was too young to understand who it was. She meant something to Nel—but what? And this man meant something to that woman. So Nel screamed and cried and beat herself.

--

He ran his fingers gently over her skull mask. She jolted, in her head. Nnoitra liked to jab his fingers into the eye sockets and pull her.

Stark didn't notice her minor lapse from reality. He only noticed the look in her eyes. They were glazed, and frightened. He kissed her, breaking her from her memory.

"Do you love him?" Stark asked quietly.

"No." Neliel frowned. "Why--?"

"You're thinking about him now." Stark pressed his finger lightly on her lips to pause her speaking. "I don't care." He smirked. "I don't love you, anyway. And there's no way you love me."

"Why do you say that? How—how do you know?"

"If you don't love Nnoitra, how can you love me?"

"We don't love." Neliel sighed. "We don't even love Aizen-sama. We are wretches, aren't we? Are you trying to tell me that we are like beasts? Unfeeling?"

"Not at all." Stark rubbed his forehead. "You're not getting it. How can we love if we were born out of hate, Neliel? You're a fool for thinking you could love."

"I never thought I could." She admitted. "I didn't even want to try." She smiled. "I don't want to feel so human." She turned her eyes away from him. "And Nnoitra brings me back into the reality that is. I am hollow, beneath my humanoid form. He is the beastly presence of a hollow in arrancar form. With him…I am what I was born from—hate."

"And what do I do?"

"You're a better lover than he is." Neliel smiled. "Sans love, of course. But also, you don't care. You have to squint—but he does."

_A/N: Weeelll, I wonder how this went over. I love all of my readers! You make my jello jiggle. That sounds.....really weird._


End file.
